Blighted Land: Book two of the Northumbrian Western Series (Northumbrian Westerns 2) (22 page)

When we joined the road she let the vehicle pick up speed and the camp disappeared behind us.

But after a mile or so she stopped us dead, swearing to herself, before turning the Eblis round to face back.

‘What’s up?’ I said.

‘The meter. The multi-meter and wires. They’re on the tank.’

‘We can get them in the morning,’ said Casper.

‘We need them. Can’t risk losing them.’
 

‘Really?’ I said.

‘Really. We need to go back to The Graveyard.’

S
HE
TOOK
US
BACK
onto the rough track, past the buildings now invisible in the mist, to the parade ground. We stopped at the same spot.

We sat there with the motors off, no one moving, watching the monitors. There was no sign of anything.
 

‘I suppose I better go,’ she said.

‘I’ll do it,’ I said. Before I could change my mind I pushed past Casper and opened the hatch. I stepped out and he passed me the torch. I slid out the pistol as he sealed the vehicle behind me.
 

The light seemed to have faded in the few minutes we’d been away. Maybe it was because my eyes had adjusted to the inside of the tank or it was just getting dark. The nearest vehicles were shapeless shadows, the ones further off no longer visible. When I lit the torch it bounced back from the fog.
 

The vehicle I needed was somewhere ahead. I knew it had no turret and the tracks were bust. I couldn’t remember much else.

I walked down the row with the light pointed down, the dark shadows shifting around me.

One tank looked familiar so I clambered up onto it. There was a small turret with a bent gun, not right at all. I climbed up onto the next one, slipped on the damp metal, my left foot flying backwards. As I thudded onto the steel surface I gave out a sigh. My voice echoed back off the hulks of the Graveyard. This one had a turret as well.

A crash came from some way off, a loud sound. It could have been from the Eblis, if Casper had climbed out of it and slipped like me. Or it might have been from the buildings, where I’d heard something earlier.
 

I moved on.

The next two vehicles didn’t have turrets but were more like armoured cars. The wrong shape: I tried another row further on and shone the torch around, trying to recognise something.
 

This shouldn’t have been so hard. Jump out and grab the gear, that had been the idea but here I was wandering around in the dark.
 

Then there was another sound, this time several loud cracks, possibly wood being smashed. Or small-calibre gunfire. Shots from a pistol.

With the torch low I worked down the row, methodical. I needed to find the tank, pick up the wires and go. That was all. But they all looked the same. Big slabs of metal in the dark.
 

Then it came back to me — the bulldozer blade and shovels built into it. That was what I needed to find. None of the vehicles nearby had blades so I moved to the next row.
 

There it was, the fifth one down. The torch jiggle around as I ran over to it. With my hands tight on the grab handles I clambered up, scanning around for the wires and metre. There was no sign of them on the hatch. They’d gone.
 

But Becky had taken them round to the back. That’s where she’d been last. I dropped down and waved the torch around. There they were: hanging off the edge of the bulk head. I put my pistol away. Grabbed the metre up and wrapped the wires around it. Shoved it all into my jacket.
 

Then I turned the torch off and stood at the rear of the tank, looking for the Eblis. That was when I heard the voices. No doubt about it, there were people here. They were whispering, several men, not far off. They must have seen the torch beam and were tracking over towards me. I lowered myself to the ground. There was no time to work out where Becky and Casper were so I slid under the vehicle, between the busted tracks and chassis. It had sunk into the ground so there wasn’t much space and I had to lie flat, pressed against the chewed up tarmac, the torch still in my hand, gravel in my face.

For several minutes there was no sound besides my own breath. As it rasped in and out. Then they came over, footsteps and voices. They stopped near me, standing by the tank. There sounded to be four or five of them, maybe more, now invisible in the darkness. Their voices were gruff and they used words I didn’t recognise. They muttered about the light they’d seen and where it was. Other stuff I couldn’t follow.

If they’d just arrived it was possible they’d not seen the Eblis, mistaking it for one of the wrecks.
 

There was a rasp and light shone on their feet as they lit a lamp. They talked about footprints and what they’d do if they found anyone. How they’d strung up the last visitor and slit him open. They all laughed at this.
 

I slid the gun out and held it up beside my head. Chances were they had their own weapons. There’d be no way I could take them all on but it felt better to have the pistol to hand. At least I’d be able to take a couple of them down with me.

As the lamplight swung around one of them raised his voice, said he’d found something. They were silent for a moment, all clustered around the tank, looking. This was it. I shuffled back, millimetre by millimetre. I came to the far side and slid out. Staying low I moved down the row, behind the other vehicles in the direction of the Eblis. Where I thought it was. The men were still standing around the tank, their lamp swinging around but not bright enough to light me. I took short steps, not wanting to trip or make a noise. If I could get far enough away I could put my torch on. Work my way back.

Then there was a shout. A rock flew through the air. Towards me. It bounced off a tank at my side.

I flicked my torch on and ran, thudded across the overgrown tarmac, ready for a bullet to thump into me, knock me off my feet. Then they could grab me and drag me off. Lynch me and slit me open.

There was one shot but it thudded into the ground off to my right. I ran on towards the end of the row, not sure where the Eblis was, where to go. The shell of an armoured car appeared out of the dark and I turned left. There were more shouts from behind me. Even if this wasn’t the right way I needed to put some distance between me and the mob so I picked up the pace.
 

But there was no sign of the Eblis. The torchlight gave a cone of white in front of me, little else. Another shot came from behind, clanged off the body of a hulk beside me. I ducked behind a personnel-carried, going out into the next row and bending forward to keep below the vehicles’ bodywork.

The men shouted. Feet clumped on the ground.
 

Then a bright light came on. It shone from a distance, over to my left. A powerful spotlight accompanied by the sound of motors.
 

It was the Eblis.
 

Casper and Becky must have heard the shots and powered up. I turned towards the light and ran flat out, sprinting as fast as I could. As soon as I’d gone a few metres it was clear I’d made a mistake. I was a silhouetted, easy to see in the lamp’s beam. Easy to shoot.

Becky’s amplified voice came from the Eblis. ‘Lie down, Trent,’ she said.

I dropped to the ground, fell on the stones and weeds. Knocked the air out of myself.
 

A second later a machine gun roared. In the stillness of The Graveyard it was deafening. A stream of shots clattered over my head, rattling and tinkling off tanks. One ricocheted into the soil near my head,
 

 
Then it stopped. Silence. Behind me I heard a couple of voices shouting, crying out. Swearing. Then the gun fired again, a short burst. Stopped. This time there were no voices.
 

I glanced back. The tank’s headlamp caught an irregular pile. Shadowed outlines in the mist, arms, legs and heads at odd angles laid out between the rotting shells. A hand twisted out as if to catch a ball.
 

I walked back towards the Eblis, sticking to the side and leaving clear space just in case one of the men had survived and tried something. As I climbed the turret the Eblis’ gun fired a couple of times, a figure falling back into the dim pile of bodies.

Back inside the vehicle Becky thanked me when I handed over the meter and wires. ‘That got complicated,’ she said.

‘Yeah. ‘On the monitor the bodies lay spot lit. Still. ‘Thanks.’

‘You okay?’

‘Fine.’

Casper stared into his sight. ‘Think that’s it,’ he said.

Becky already had her hands on the controls. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Yeah,’ I said.

We reversed out of the parade ground of rotting hulks. Dead bodies. We left The Graveyard for the second time that evening

W
E
DROVE
ON
THROUGH
the darkness for some time. The Eblis lumbered along as Becky kept the speed down. Watched the dials. The vehicle’s lights were off yet I could see the road ahead on the monitor: overgrown hedgerows and meadows of weeds. Everything around us, in blacks and greens.
 

We turned off down a track taking us up to an abandoned farm. Around it were fields of weeds. There was a large yard and Becky pulled up in the middle of it.
 

‘Listen,’ she said.

There were no sounds. No movement on the screens. We were between several buildings: there was a barn with a roof that had partially collapsed. It lay angled like the bow of a ship. Opposite was a farmhouse with cracked and distorted windows from fire damage. Its interior was dark, lifeless. Beside it was a pile of timber that must have once been another barn.

‘Looks dead.’ I grabbed the pistol and squeezed past Casper. Popped the hatch and went out.

Mist hung over the buildings. The air smelled of damp grass and hot metal from the tank. It gave off of ticks and gurgles but otherwise there was no sound.

Becky came and stood by me. ‘We had to shoot them,’ she said.

‘I know.’

‘They wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot you.’

‘I’m sure.’ Of all the things we’d done it was one that bothered me the least.
 

She came round and stood in front of me. ‘Look, Trent, this trip…’ She took a deep breath and kicked at the ground. ‘Now we’ve got the parts. We can fix the tank. It’s going to be fine.’

‘Right.’ I wasn’t sure what this speech was for. What she wanted from me. All I knew was I was probably going to leave as soon as we got further into Scotland. They could head off to their dream town but once I got juice I was off.
 

‘We never did see Nico or the Round Up crew.’

‘There’s still time.’

She shook her head. ‘I’d guess they’ve gone back. Or Casper finished them off.’

‘I guess.’ It seemed likely but Nico was tough. A survivor. And if he was alive he’d be after us: until he got us.

Casper came out and joined us. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Fine,’ said Becky. ‘Look, it’s too dark to fit the parts tonight. We’ll have to do it first thing.’

I offered to collect firewood while they explored the buildings and gave them a clean sweep. Made sure there was no one hanging around.

There were plenty of old rafters scattered around so I gathered them up and dumped them in corner of the barn. Once Becky and Casper had had a good look around she drove the tank into the barn and we set up a section of busted metal roof alongside it to make a sheltered area.
 

We lit a fire and warmed up tinned vegetables. Becky talked about the replacement components they’d picked up. It wasn’t a particularly technical conversation but I lost interested after a while and rolled out my bedding, lying back on the packed-earth floor. The pistol was stashed at my side, just in case. As I fell asleep I thought of Scotland and the mountains. The empty Highlands away from the gangs of the border.

But I slept badly, reliving events in Faeston with Round Up and Sophie. Beating up kids and making false promises. Hanging around in my flat with the documents on Gehenna. I dreamt about the pile of bodies, the ones Casper had shot in the camp. Another where I’d found a pile of bones; nearly ended up in it. That was the one that woke me up.
 

I sat up in my sleeping bag and looked around. Becky and Casper were still asleep. The fire was a pile of ash and faint light came through from far side of the barn.
 

I slid on some clothes, taking my pistol. The Eblis was slimy with dew, cold to my touch. I walked round it and through the yard, over to a gate. The sun fought through mist that cloaked the fields. At the side of the farmhouse I undid my trousers and took a piss. It steamed onto the ground as two jackdaws rose up from a chimney stack. The birds flapped off and I did my fly.

There was movement across at the far side of the farm building, just behind the smashed gate.